When the Poet Sings

A short poem of mine featuring insight into my current notion of contemporary love.

‘When the Poet Sings’      By Ben Veen

When the poet sings, a light falls upon the world, as though a crackle through the clouds reveals a sun shrouded for too long. The blue jays begin to sing again, again, though this time in tune with the calm river inspiring their song. The city's regular hustle and bustle comes to a halt, the people only now remembering the sound of a perfect silence. The stars will shine and the lovers, together as one, will smile under the archway, bonded by ceremony and truth and the promise that their lives have just begun.

When the poet sings there will be only love, for what else would we need but the touch of love’s tender kiss and the warmth of its breath. There will be flowers too, but only the endearing kind, what need would we have with thorns and pricks or anything involving grotesque snips. There will be kindness, kinship, affection, equality and all the clocks in the city will chime in unity, as one, unburdening us of the struggles of adversity.

But who can remember when the poet last sung? Or when the world stood together as one? His tender voice is now far too mistook and when you think of love, all that arises are the trials it cooks. The blue jays and their call were such a splendid thing, it almost makes me cry, to see them near extinct. The lovers under the archway are gone, words of infidelity arose, or even foul play, perhaps it was both, I'm beginning to lose hope.

But can someone tell me what kind of madness this is? For the rules have changed from when I was a mere boy. From speaking riddles and lovers kindled, to illicit lies and harmonies dwindled. Though through this chaos his voice still calls, nostalgic for a time even he barely recalls. And so the poet remains, his voice still soft. Somewhere in the distance, possibly within us. Calling out, to me to you, and to the damned society who had failed to remain true.

Author's Note

Ignore irregular rhythmic pattern, I did it purposely.